Come Back To Me My Heart's Beating Right Next To
by LissaAnn
Summary: John leaves with Caleb on a hunt. Sam beomes critically ill. What's Dean to do?


**Title:** Come Back To Me (My Heart's Beating Right Next To Yours)

**Word Count:** 8,415 - longest ever!

**Disclaimer:** Everyone from _Supernatural_ are fake, right? Then so is this story. Kripke owns the characters and the universe, I'm just playing. No money made.

**Beta:** The lovely **just_ruth** offered her services and really helped to round this out! She is awesome!

**Author's notes:** This is about 30% real medicine, 70% TV medicine. Critically!sick!Sam, Super-worried!tearful!Dean. Everyone's all better at the end. More author's notes at the end of the story…don't want to give anything away!

For **authoressnebula**!! Her holiday present using the prompts "fever and/or poison". Hit both, kinda! Hope you enjoy, sweetie. This is the least I can do for all of the fantastic fic she gifts with so frequently. Love you!

Dean just turned 12, Sam is 7.

It was just after dinner when John called Dean into the kitchen of Jacob's apartment where they were staying in Savage, Minnesota. It wasn't much to look at, but it was warm and safe, a place for them to at least sleep and eat during the frigid Minnesota winters. Jacob was out getting supplies and munitions while John cleaned the guns and knives.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm going to be leaving tomorrow morning with Jacob. We've got to be on the road well before you boys need to be at school. So let's go through the drill, Sport."

Dean knew it like the back of his hand. "Yes, sir. We get to school; come straight home, make sure we do our homework and eat. We get to bed at a normal hour. Salt all the windows and doors. Keep the loaded shotgun with me in the house, shoot first and ask questions later. If anyone asks where you are, you're working and will be home soon. If we have any trouble, we call Pastor Jim," he recited.

"What about answering the phone?"

"Don't. You'll call, let it ring once, hang up and then call back."

John nodded.

"I know what to do, Dad. It's not like this is the first time you've left us alone."

"Dean, this is important, and I need to be _sure_ that you know this."

Dean frowned. "I know, Dad. I'm not a kid."

"I know, Dean. I worry, though."

"We'll be fine. We always are."

"Okay." John tousled Dean's hair even though he tried to duck. "Go see how Sam's doing with his homework, and start yours."

"Yes, sir."

Dean walked into the room Sam and he shared, finding Sam at the desk, deep in concentration. "How're you doing, squirt?"

"Almost done. Just finishing up my math homework. Will you look at it and make sure I did it right? I think I did."

"Sure thing, Sammy. Let me know when you finish."

Sam turned his concentration back to the paper he had been working on and continued to scribble with his pencil. After erasing a little, he handed the paper to Dean, who began to look it over.

"Hmm. Mm-hmm, wait, Sammy, come here." Sam came over and looked where his brother was pointing. "Is that the right lowest denominator in this problem?" Dean asked.

Sam stared at the paper, his brow wrinkling like it always did when he was deep in thought. "Oh! No!" he said. He grabbed the paper and erased that answer and corrected it. He brought it back over to Dean who looked at it and nodded.

"There ya go, Sammy. Good job."

Sam put his homework back with his books and began to pack his backpack for tomorrow morning. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean answered without looking up from his own homework.

"Dad's going on another job tomorrow, isn't he?" Sam tried to hide the frown on his face, but he was always upset and worried when his dad left them, especially after having read Dad's journal at Christmas.

Dean got up from the bed and ruffled Sam's hair. "Yeah, he is. It'll be okay. He'll be back by Sunday."

"Sunday? Tomorrow's Wednesday!" He counted on his fingers. "Four days!"

"We'll be okay, Sammy."

"What about Dad? What if something happens to him?"

"He's going to be having Jacob go with him, so that he's not going alone."

"What about us?"

"Don't I always take care of you?"

"Well…yeah."

"So we'll go to school, get lunch there as usual, come home, I'll make supper and we'll do homework. Just like if Dad was here."

Sam sighed. "Guess I should go say goodnight to Dad then."

"Sounds like a good idea, kiddo. It's almost bedtime, anyways."

"Dad?"

"What's up, Sam?"

"Do you _have_ to go on this job?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't want you to go." Sam looked down at the floor.

"Why not?"

Sam just looked at the floor and didn't answer. He knew what Dean had told him, and Dean never lied, but it was just…he didn't want anything to happen to his Dad.

"Sammy, come here." Sam stumbled over still looking down. John put his hand under Sam's chin and raised his head to look at him. "Nothing's going to happen. Jacob is coming with me, and he's going to make sure I'm okay. I promise."

"But what if something happens to us?"

"You guys have done this before. You know what to do." He smiled softly. "Where's that little man of mine?"

Sam straightened up at the question, but didn't smile back. 'G'night, Dad."

"Night, Sammy. I'll be back before you know it."

Sam and Dean didn't really train while Dad was gone. They ran a little, but for the next couple of days, Sam was dragging way behind Dean. Dean thought Sam was just being moody and didn't want to run. He didn't push the topic since they completed Dad's daily requirement of exercise.

By the time Sam got home from school on Friday, Dean was really worried. Sam had bright red splotches on his cheeks and had no energy. He didn't even want to eat which was an alarm bell for Dean right away. Sam had stripped off his hoodie and his flannel shirt. Dean could see that Sam was sweating more than usual, by the way the t-shirt clung to him. Dean walked over to the couch where he was sitting and laid a hand on his sweaty forehead. "Damn it, Sam! Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling good?"

"'m fine," Sam croaked.

"Like hell you are. You've got a fever." He stood Sam up. "C'mon. Into bed with you." Sam slowly got up and Dean helped him over to his bed. Sam lay on top of the covers.

Dean tried to cover Sam, but he mumbled, "too hot, De", so Dean left him alone.

"I'll be right back."

Dean went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth to put on Sam's forehead. He tried to remember what his dad always did when either of them had a fever. He knew that sometimes dad gave them medicine, but he didn't really want to do that if he didn't have to. He'd rather try the other ways to bring down a fever first. He grabbed the thermometer from the cabinet as well.

"Open up," Dean told Sam just after putting the washcloth on Sam's face. He dutifully opened his mouth and Dean stuck the thermometer in. After a minute, Dean slid it from Sam's mouth and looked at. 102.9. _Damn it,_ he thought. _That's not good._ "Try and get some sleep, Sammy. I'll be right here."

Sam lay on his back with his eyes closed. He felt like he was roasting. Without much movement, Sam slid out of his t-shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers, and even then Sam felt like there was too much covering him. "Dean?"

"Right here, Sammy," he answered as he moved over and sat on the side of the bed. "What's up?"

"Thirsty," was all that he could get out. Dean got up and went into the kitchen. They still had some supplies left from when dad went shopping. Dean had held onto a couple of bottles of Gatorade because he was planning on a couple of nice longer runs when dad came back after being cooped with Sam for so long. While in the kitchen, Dean took another damp washcloth, wrapped it into a plastic bag and put it in the freezer so that it'd be cooler than the one that was currently on Sam's forehead. He grabbed a Gatorade and opened it while heading back to the bedroom.

"Here, sit up a little." Dean helped Sam up, letting him rest against his chest. He tipped the bottle gently to give Sam small sips. "Better?"

Sam nodded, then flopped back over to lie on the bed face down. "Stay with me?"

Dean rubbed Sam's arm. "Of course, dude. I'll be right over here doing my homework."

Sam tried to sleep. He lay and listen to Dean's steady breathing and the scratch of his pencil, a welcome reminder that he wasn't alone in the room.

Dean kept his eye on the clock, knowing he should wake Sam up soon to check his temperature again and see how he was doing. Sam having a fever made him nervous, but he didn't want Sam to see that because it would only panic Sam more. Dean walked back out to the kitchen and took stock of what they had left in the cabinet. Three more big bottles of Gatorade, some orange juice, a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup, bread, peanut butter, jelly, a can of Spaghetti-O's and a couple boxes of macaroni and cheese. Dean wasn't hungry right now, too worried about Sam to want to eat, but knew they would both have to soon.

Looking at his watch again, he went to go rouse Sam. He shook his shoulder softly. "Sammy? C'mon, dude. Wake up for me."

Sam's eyes blinked open. "What?"

"Need to take your temperature again. See how you're doing." Dean stuck the thermometer under Sam's tongue again and timed one minute. He pulled it out of his mouth and held it up to the light. 103.7. _Fuck,_ Dean thought. _He's gotten worse._ "How do you feel, Sam?"

"Hot. Even lying on the blankets is too hot." He pushed the blankets to the end of the bed.

"Here, you should drink something. You're sweating bullets." He held the Gatorade up to Sam's mouth, who took a few greedy gulps. "Easy there. Don't want you to get sick." Sam collapsed back on the bed after the drink.

"How about we try a bath, Sammy?" Sam looked at him strangely. "Sometimes cool baths help bring fevers down.

Sam nodded and Dean went and filled the bathtub with lukewarm water. He eased Sam down into the tub who shivered a little. Dean let Sam sit in the water for about half an hour, then helped him dry off. He went back into the kitchen and took the washcloth out of the freezer. He placed it on Sam's forehead. "Sleep, Sammy. It'll be better soon." Sam just nodded as his eyes slid closed.

Dean left the room and began to pace. This was not good, not good at all. _Think, Dean! What did Dad tell you about how to take care of a fever?_ He ran through all of Dad's first aid instructions, then remembered that he had always said that Tylenol would help bring fevers down. He grabbed Jacob's first aid kit and began to search through it. He wasn't able to find the white and red bottle that normally had Tylenol in it, but he did find a prescription bottle that read Tylenol #3. Dean didn't know if there was a difference, but he saw Tylenol on the label and knew that would help. The bottle instructed to take two tablets every six hours for pain. Dean figured that Sam probably did have some aches from being sick. He poured two into his hand and put the bottle away. He looked at his watch so that he would know when he gave Sam the medication.

"Sammy," he called softly. "I need you to wake up for me for a minute." Sam sat up but didn't open his eyes. "Dude, here. I need you to take these for me." Dean placed the pills in Sam's hand and Sam popped them into his mouth. He took a couple of swallows from the Gatorade and lay down.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?" he answered quietly.

"Stay?" he mumbled.

Dean walked over and ran his hand over Sam's forehead, smoothing his hair back. "Of course."

Sam snuggled into his pillow and closed his eyes. Dean watched him, sitting on Sam's bed, stroking his forehead until Sam fell asleep. He wrapped his arms around Sam's body and lay with him, not really caring that he would probably get sick too, and slept.

Before he knew it, six hours had passed and the alarm clock in their bedroom went off, waking both of them. Dean got the thermometer and checked Sam's temperature. His temperature had continued to rise slightly, now 104.3. Dean went back to the first aid kit and took out two more pills, handing them to a very groggy Sam, making him swallow them before he fell back asleep.

Now that he was awake, Dean didn't want to disturb Sam, so he went out to the living room and flipped through the channels on TV to find something to watch. He settled on a movie he had seen before and was all cut up, edited for TV.

During one of the commercial breaks, he went to check on Sam. The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was in the bedroom. Well, of course it was quiet, Sam was sleeping, but this was a different kind of quiet, and Dean felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He suddenly realized that he didn't hear the deep, soft breaths of Sam sleeping. He ran over to Sam's bed and tried to wake him with no success. He put his hand on Sam's chest. Sam was breathing, but it was very shallow. Immediately he took Sam's pulse, which was slow and difficult to find.

Dean tried not to panic, but something was really wrong. He'd never seen Sam like this before, not in all the times Sam was sick. _God, what do I do?_ ran through his head. Without a second thought, Dean picked up the phone and dialed. There was only one person he could call at a time like this.

Dean became frustrated when no one had picked up the phone after four rings. He was about to hang up on the sixth ring when he heard a sleepy voice say, "Hello?"

"Pastor Jim? It's Dean."

"Dean, what's wrong?" concern immediately gripping his voice. If Dean was calling, there was some kind of serious trouble.

"It's…it's Sammy. He's sick, and I gave him some Tylenol because his fever was getting bad and now he's barely breathing and I don't know what to do."

"Where's your dad?"

"He's out on a hunt, probably two hours away, with Jacob."

"Okay, Dean. It's okay. Been giving Sam cool water to try and lower the fever?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered as he stepped into the doorway to check and see if things had changed with Sam.

"What kind of Tylenol did you give him? What color bottle was it in?"

"I don't know what kind. It was in a regular prescription bottle."

"What did the label say?"

Dean read from the label. "Tylenol number 3. Take two tablets every six hours for pain."

"Okay." Jim knew what that meant. Dean had given Sam Tylenol with codeine, which would explain his shallow breathing. "How many did you give him?"

"Two pills, then two more pills six hours later."

In someone as small as Sam, that was too much medication. Jim didn't want to frighten Dean more than he had to, though. "Dean, you're going to have to stay close to Sam. There's nothing you can do right now; you just need to let the medication wear off. Now, don't give him anymore of that medication, understood?"

"Yes, sir. Did I…did I do something wrong?"

"Unfortunately, Dean, yes. The medication you gave him had a second medication in it called codeine. It's a powerful pain reliever and it makes people very sleepy. It's not uncommon for this to happen. Sam is very deeply asleep and you have to watch him to make sure he wakes up all right."

Dean's breath suddenly became panicked and ragged. "Sammy!" he screamed. "God, no!" The next thing Pastor Jim heard was the clatter of the phone receiver hitting the ground.

Dean ran into the room as Sam's body shook uncontrollably. Dean at first thought that Sam was just shivering because of the fever, but when he climbed onto the bed behind Sam and put his arms around him, the shaking didn't stop. Tears began to fall from Dean's eyes as he panicked and tried to think of what was happening and what could be done. Suddenly, it hit him. Sam was having a seizure. He couldn't remember what his dad had said about what to do if someone was having a seizure, or even _if_ his dad had told him. Dean held on as tight as he could and prayed fiercely, something Dean never did, that this would end.

After what seemed to be hours, Sam's body began to relax and stop shaking. Dean gulped down some deep breaths, trying to soothe himself and Sam by whispering that he was there and that Sam was going to be fine, Dean promised. Dean then remembered about the call he had made.

"Pastor Jim? Are you still there?"

"Dean, what happened?"

"Sam had a seizure, I think." Dean forced himself to take some deep breaths. "I was so scared. I didn't think it would stop."

"Now Dean, listen to me very carefully. You need to hang up the phone and immediately call 911. You tell them what's going on, you tell them your dad's at work and your uncle is coming to meet you at the hospital. I'll be there in about an hour. Now, Dean."

Jim heard the phone click, disconnecting the call. He grabbed his jacket and his pack and headed out to the car.

Dean's fingers shook as he dialed the three numbers and waited for someone to pick up. He kept watching Sam and to his relief, Sam was lying quietly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I need an ambulance. My little brother, he's sick, and I think he just had a seizure. Please, help!"

"Okay. What's your address?" Dean gave the operator the number and street. "Can you stay on the phone with me honey until they get there?"

"I'd really rather be with Sam…,"

"I know, but I need some information from you. How long has your brother been sick?"

"About a day."

"Have you taken his temperature?"

Dean reported the last reading, and then told the operator what he had been doing.

"Did you give him any medication?"

Dean stopped for a moment. "Yeah. I gave him something that I thought was Tylenol, but when I told my uncle about it on the phone he said there was another medication in it. Co…cod-something."

"Codeine?"

"Yeah. He told me to watch Sam really closely, the medication would wear off. Then Sam just started to shake and wouldn't stop. My uncle told me to call." In the distance, Dean could hear the ambulance siren.

"Okay. How's Sam's breathing now?"

"Let me check." Dean put the phone on the table and went into the bedroom.

"Same as it was before, really shallow." He saw the ambulance pull up to the house and the EMTs get out. "The EMTs are here…I have to let them in."

"Don't hang up yet. Go answer the door, then let one of the EMTs talk to me."

Dean threw the door open and blurted that the 911 operator needed to talk to them. Without another word, he ran into the bedroom and grabbed Sam's hand. "Sammy?" he asked. "Sammy, can you hear me?" No answer.

The EMT put his hand gently on Dean's back. "What's your name?"

"Dean. And this is Sammy."

"Hi, Dean. My name's Jamie. Can you to move to the other bed so I can check Sammy out?"

Dean nodded, barely trusting himself to speak.

He watched as the EMT shined a flashlight into Sam's eyes, put a thermometer into Sam's ear, listened to Sam's chest and then rub his knuckles _really_ hard on Sam's breastbone. Dean almost yelled at him, when he heard a soft moan from Sam. "Sammy?" he asked hopefully.

"Sam's still unconscious, but this way, we know he can still feel pain. It's a good thing."

"Dan?" the EMT yelled to his partner. "We need to get his one to the hospital now."

Dan walked in with the stretcher and they put Sam on and strapped him in.

"I need to go with you," Dean said. "Our dad's not here, and our uncle's coming from out of town to meet us, and I have no way to get to the hospital. And I can't leave him alone."

Jamie looked at Dan who kind of shrugged. "Okay. But you've got to listen to me, okay?"

Dean nodded and walked out with them next to the stretcher. They got Sam into the ambulance first, then Dean climbed in and sat next to him.

Jamie sat on the other side, and started to put a needle into Sam's arm, connected to a bag that looked like it had water in it. "It's just salt water, Dean," Jamie told him. "He needs some fluids right now."

Dean nodded and watched as he took care of Sammy. Dean tentatively reached a hand out to stroke Sam's hand and Jamie nodded. "It's okay. You can hold his hand." Dean put a death grip on Sam's hand. He was not ever going to let it go again.

When they got to the ER, Dean followed the stretcher into the room, while Jamie spoke too fast for him to understand and using words Dean had never heard before. The nurse looked down at Dean. "Hi. My name is Amy. Where's your dad, honey?"

"He's working. I can't reach him by phone. But our uncle is on his way here now. He takes care of us in emergencies."

"And this is your brother?"

Dean nodded solemnly.

"Can you tell me what happened today?"

Dean recounted the whole story for Amy. She nodded sympathetically as she listened.

"It sounds like you worked hard to make sure your brother was okay."

"I messed up," Dean mumbled, eyes cast down on the floor.

Amy looked at Dean. "It's okay. He's going to be fine, really."

Dean looked up at her as one tear ran down his cheek. "I didn't mean to."

She put her hand on Dean's shoulder. "We're going to take good care of him, I promise."

She brought him a chair so that he could sit in the room. Once she left again, Dean scooted the chair up right next to Sam and took his hand again. "Sammy?" Dean asked quietly. "Sammy, please wake up for me. Please." He waited, hoping that maybe Sam was just being stubborn and didn't want to open his eyes yet. But Sam didn't respond. Tears began to roll down Dean's face. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry. God, Sammy…," Dean tightened his hand around Sam's and started to quietly pray again. "If you can hear me, God, please let him be okay. He's my little brother, and I need him."

There was a soft knock on the door, like a warning then the door opened. "Hi there," the doctor said. "I'm Dr. Goldberg. What's your name?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam."

"Amy already told me what brought Sam in here. We're going to make him feel better." The doctor began to examine Sam. "Has he woken up at all?"

Dean shook his head.

"You guys are kind of young…where's your dad?"

"He's out in the woods, working. We can't reach him. He'll be back soon, though."

Dr. Goldberg smiled at Dean. "We need to take some blood to do some tests."

"Can I stay with him?"

"Sure can. In fact, I bet he'd feel a lot better when he wakes up if you're here."

Dean nodded enthusiastically. "Our uncle, Jim, is supposed to be coming to see us. Could someone let him know where we are?"

"Of course. We'll send him in as soon as he gets here."

"Thanks."

"You hungry, Dean? We don't have too much, but we do have some turkey sandwiches. I could have Amy bring you one."

Dean nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let her know if you need anything."

Amy brought in a sandwich and some ginger ale for Dean.

"Thank you," Dean told her. "Do you think he's going to wake up soon?" he asked with his eyes wide.

"We'll have to see, Dean. We're not sure exactly what's wrong yet. We need to figure that out first."

Dean wasn't exactly reassured by that answer, but realized she was being as honest with him as she could. He felt so lost without his dad there. Dean continued to mentally berate himself that he had let his dad and Sam down.

As he sat there and slowly ate his sandwich, he saw Sam start to grow rigid and begin to shake. He ran to the doorway. "Amy!" he screamed. "Amy, he's shaking again!"

Amy came running out of the next room, along with two other nurses. A third nurse introduced himself to Dean as Tom, and took him to a room with chairs and a couch and told him to wait there until Dr. Goldberg saw Sam. Dean sat on the couch, all alone, terrified that he would never get his brother back.

There was a knock at the door, then Pastor Jim entered. Dean jumped up and threw his arms around him, and started to babble incoherently about what was happening.

"Dean." He waited a minute. "Dean, calm down." His hand ran through Dean's hair trying to soothe him. Dean pulled away a little and Jim looked at him. "What's going on?"

Dean relayed the most recent developments, without taking a breath. "They won't let me see him. I need to see him! I need to know he's okay! Make them let me see him!" he demanded.

"Okay, Dean. Let me let the staff know that I'm here and I'll get the doctor to come talk to me as soon as possible."

"His doctor's name is Dr. Goldberg. And Amy's been his nurse – she's been really nice."

Jim gave Dean a small smile. "I'm glad to hear that." He saw a doctor headed in his direction and moved to talk to him out of the boy's sight. Dean bit his lip, willing himself not to cry again. He never would have acted like this in front of dad. But dad wasn't here, and Jim would never tell him.

He heard voices in the hallway and moved to the corner of the hallway to see if he could hear what they were saying. He only caught a few whispered words. "…high fever…medication not right…two seizures…not good…don't know…brain damage…" What? Sam might be brain damaged? He began to panic and ran down the hallway. He saw Amy at the nurses' station and ran up to her. "Amy, please…you need to let me see him! It's all my fault. He's gonna die and it's all my fault."

"Dean, Sam's not going to die. We're working very hard to get him better." She walked him part way over to Sam's door, then bent down to talk to Dean eye to eye. "What you see will probably scare you. Sam has a tube in his mouth to help him to breathe. The medication we needed to give him to help stop his seizure relaxes your body and he just needs a little help."

"He can't breathe on his own?!" The tears began to pour out of Dean's eyes.

"Dean, it's going to be okay. Once Sam wakes up, we can take the tube out." She ruffled his hair.

"Amy? I heard Dr. Goldberg tell my uncle that they don't know if there's brain damage. Is that really true?" He looked up at her, waiting to see what she would say.

"We don't know yet, Dean. Sam needs to wake up before we can tell. Sometimes the medication can cause damage, sometimes the seizure, and sometimes the high fever. We just can't know right now."

All's Dean could think of was that his Sammy, who was so proud of his mind, would have it damaged because Dean made a mistake he didn't even realize he was making.

"Are you ready to go in and see him?" Amy asked him gently.

Dean nodded nervously, then walked forward. He stopped abruptly when he saw the ventilator and the tube running into Sam's mouth. "Sam?" he whispered. "Oh, God, no. No. No." He moved over to Sam's side. He took Sam's hand in his, laid his head on Sam's chest and cried openly.

A few minutes later, Dean felt a warm hand on his back, gently rubbing circles. Dean looked up to see who it was, and it was Pastor Jim. He turned away from Sam, threw his arms around Jim and continued to sob. "What if he never gets better? What if he never wakes up? What if…?" Dean had to stop there, because the thought of Sammy dying was just a thought he was not willing to think about. "Is God punishing me because I don't pray?"

Jim looked at Dean in shock. "No, Dean," he answered calmly. "That's not how God works." He sat in the chair next to Sam's bed and looked at Dean. "God loves everyone, Dean. He doesn't punish people like that." He paused. "Would it make you feel better to say a prayer now?"

Dean looked down, but nodded. "I don't know how to pray right, though."

"There's no special way to pray, Dean. Just tell God what's in your heart. He can hear you," he reassured him. After a moment, Jim said, "Would it help if I said the prayer?"

"Is that…okay? Will it help?"

"It's okay." He took a deep breath and folded his hands, showing Dean what to do. "Dear Jesus, please help us. Someone we love very much is very sick, and we want to pray for him to get better and pray for ourselves for strength so that we can get through until he wakes up. Thank you."

"That's it?" Jim nodded. "So, when I was praying earlier and I said that he's my little brother and I need him, that was an okay prayer?"

"That was a great prayer, Dean. I know God heard you. Sam is going to be okay."

Amy came into the room then and told them that Sam was being moved to ICU. Even the abbreviation scared Dean. "Now, there are some rules up there about visiting. You can only visit for fifteen minutes every hour. The nurses need to keep a very close watch on Sam, so they need to make sure that he gets all the care he needs. Maybe you want to go home and get some sleep?"

"No!" Dean shouted. "Only fifteen minutes? What if he wakes up and we're not there?!" Dean demanded.

"They'll come get you and let you know."

They followed Amy as she wheeled Sam's gurney up the hallway to the elevator with the help of another person. They got into the elevator and headed up to Sam's room. "You'll need to give us a few minutes to set everything up for Sam before you can come in," Amy told them. She looked at Dean. "I promise they'll let you know just as soon as you can go in and see him."

She led them to the ICU waiting room, which was about the size of the living room where they were staying with a phone, a TV and a couple of vending machines. Dean sat down in the corner to wait, Jim by his side.

It had been over twenty minutes, and still no one had come out to talk to them. Dean was agitated and could barely sit still. He wished that he had one of their weapons to clean so he could focus, but Dad took all the weapons he needed and obviously, he wasn't going to have a gun in the hospital. Usually Dean carried his knife on him, but in the chaos, he had left it in the kitchen.

"Where _are_ they? Why can't we see him yet?"

Jim could tell just by Dean's voice that Dean wanted to hit something. Calmly, he said, "Dean, they're taking care of him. Isn't that the most important thing?"

"No! The most important thing is for me to be in there _while_ they're taking care of him! I need to make sure he's okay! I need…," and he collapsed against the wall, sliding down the floor, sobbing. "I need…".

Jim sat next to him and put his arm around Dean's shoulder. "I know, Dean. I promise you can see him just as soon as they say we can."

Normally Dean wouldn't allow this show of affection, but he was so tired and wrung out that he needed Jim's support. With Jim's arm on his shoulders, he was able to take some deep breaths and pull himself together. Jim radiated a quiet strength, and Dean was able to feel it seeping into him, warm, peaceful, calming him. _That's_ what Sam needed most – Dean not being scared because when Sam woke up, he was going to be confused and scared. Dean wanted Sam to feel the strength that Dean felt right now with Jim.

Jim sat, comforting Dean. From his pocket, he pulled out a small rosary and began to recite the prayers.

_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee, Blessed art thou amongst women, and Blessed is the fruit of they womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen._

The last line of the prayer was not lost on Jim, as he continued to pray softly. He felt Dean's weight on his shoulder and looked down to find Dean asleep.

Half an hour later, one of the ICU nurses came out to talk to them. Jim stayed seated so that he wouldn't wake Dean just yet. The nurse explained that Sam was stable but that nothing had changed. At this point, it was just a wait and see game.

As much as Jim wanted to let Dean sleep, he knew that Dean would never forgive him if they were able to go see Sam and he didn't tell him. He gently shook Dean. "Dean? C'mon, we can go in and see Sam now."

Jim let Dean go into see Sam first, while he talked with the nurses. They told him that Sam was still on the ventilator but was holding his own and that with the IV fluids and antibiotics they were giving him that his fever was coming down. It was just going to take time for him to wake up.

Dean walked slowly into Sam's room, the equipment still scaring him. He grabbed the chair in the corner of the room and dragged it over to Sam's bed. He ran his hand over Sam's forehead and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Sam's forehead cool, the fever finally breaking. "Sammy," he whispered. He grabbed Sam's hand and held it tightly. "Sammy, dude. You've got to wake up now. It's time. C'mon, Sam, open your eyes." All's Dean heard was the _swoosh_ of the ventilator and the beeps of the monitors. Dean lay his head down on Sam's arm and just held on to him as tightly as he could, willing his strength into Sam.

Before Dean knew it, the nurse was in the room, shaking him gently. "Dean, honey. We need you to go back to the waiting room."

"Please don't make me go back there. Please let me stay with him. He's going to be so scared when he wakes up and doesn't see me here."

"Dean, we need to take care of him. I promise you, and I'll pass this along to all of the other nurses: the moment he wakes up and the ventilator is out, you can come in and see him." Dean leaned over and gave Sam a kiss on the forehead and followed the nurse back to the waiting room.

"I'm just going to go look in on him and say a prayer for him, then I'll be out and we'll get something to eat, okay Dean?" Jim said.

Dean nodded and sat back down in the corner where he had been sitting before. He looked up the clock and couldn't believe that it was four in the afternoon. He hadn't even noticed that he'd had nothing to eat since yesterday.

A few minutes later, Jim came back to the waiting room. "Ready?" Dean nodded and they headed down to a small coffee shop in the hospital lobby. "They said he's doing okay, Dean. They want to wait until he wakes up to take him off the ventilator. But the fever's come down and the medications they gave him are working. He's gonna be better soon."

Dean nodded silently. His thoughts that Sam may have some kind of brain damage ate away at him. If Dean had known what he was doing, if he had done something sooner…maybe he wouldn't have had to worry about this.

Before they went back up to the waiting room, they went to the gift shop. Dean picked up a little stuffed husky and a couple of books for Sam and bought a car magazine for himself for something to do while he was waiting.

When they got back upstairs, Jim tried to talk Dean into falling asleep for a little bit, but Dean stubbornly refused. "He's gonna wake up, and he's gonna need me," Dean said. "It won't be long."

Dean and Jim sat in the now deserted ICU waiting room. Dean stared at the clock as it neared 11pm, almost time to go back in and see Sam again. He yawned and closed his eyes, just for a minute.

Without any warning, Dean heard a loud, gruff, panicked voice. "Where is he?"

_Dad._ Dean began to panic. _Shit, Sam was supposed to be awake by now!_

Reluctantly, Dean opened his eyes. He had not been looking forward to this moment, and tried hard to ignore it the best he could. Things would have been so much better if Sam was awake.

Jim ran interference before Dean could respond. "He's in the ICU. He's stable. But we need to tell you – he 's on a ventilator and we need to wait for him to wake up before we know if there's any further damage."

"What do you mean, 'any other damage'?"

"John." He put his hands on John's shoulders. "We don't know if there's any brain damage. He never stopped breathing but they put him on the ventilator because they had to give him medication to stop the seizure. That medication relaxed him and between the narcotics and these meds, they felt it was safer to put him on the ventilator. But the fever, the medication, the seizure – one or all of them could have affected him. We just don't know."

John glared at Dean. "How could you let this happen, Dean? Why weren't you watching him?"

Dean couldn't believe his dad was blaming him. Sam was sick – that wasn't his fault!

Jim glared at him. "John, it's not Dean's fault, and you know that."

John sat down heavily across from the two of them, not knowing what to say. He was so scared for Sam, and so upset at himself for not being around.

"Dean, Jim, you can come in and see Sam," LeAnn, the ICU nurse told them.

John bolted up from his seat, but Jim stood in front of him. "Dean," Jim started, "you go ahead. I need to talk with your father."

Dean looked between the two of them, then followed LeAnn into the ICU.

"Damn it, John…what the hell were you thinking blaming Dean? Do you know what he's been through? He's watched his brother, the person he cares about most in this world, the kid that he's been charged with watching over have two seizures and put on a ventilator! How dare you ask him that?"

John shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just…I'm so scared about what's going to happen. Sam asked me not to take the job and I just didn't listen."

"I know. We're all scared. Dean's beside himself." He put his hand on John's shoulder. "You couldn't have known this was going to happen. Don't beat yourself up over this. Dean's doing enough for the both of you." John was looking at the floor. "John, look at me." He looked up. "You need to talk to Dean about this. You need to reassure him that he did his best. Because he really did."

He nodded. "When he comes back out, I'll let him know."

Dean sat, sniffling as he held Sam's hand. "Dad blamed this on me, Sam. He's right, I should have been paying more attention. I'm sorry, Sammy. God, I'm so sorry." He sat there, just as every other time he's come in to see Sam, and silently willed him to wake up. It was getting worse by the hour, Dean not knowing what was going to happen. All's he wanted was for Sam to come back.

While he was sitting there, Jim and John walked into the room. Dean, afraid that John was going to make him feel even worse, bolted out of the room and the ICU. Jim watched him leave. "I'll go find him. You stay here with Sam."

"Tell him I want to talk to him. I know you'll know how to say it so that he'll understand."

Jim walked around the hospital, knowing that Dean would not leave, not without his brother. He looked for Dean in the waiting room, down in the lobby or the coffee shop, even in the cafeteria without any luck. He went to find the chapel, not looking for Dean, but just to offer up a small prayer before he began to search again.

When Jim opened the door, he heard whimpers and sniffles. He knew there must be other people here who were praying for their loved ones. He walked into the back of the chapel. There, in the corner, as far away as he could be, sat Dean. He was kneeling with his hands folded together, covering his eyes. "God, please, please, please…Sammy's got to be alright. He's just got to be. Dad won't know what to do if something bad happens to him." He began to sob. "I didn't mean to. I didn't know what else to do." He continued to cry, not able to speak anymore.

Jim watched Dean for a moment. He'd never, in all the time he'd known the family, seen Dean like this. Dean was always the strong one, the one who kept his head together in a crisis. To see him so vulnerable broke Jim's heart a little. He slid over into the pew and put his arm around Dean. Dean jumped at the contact, but then threw himself into Jim. He held Dean, running his hand through Dean's hair trying to soothe him. "It's going to be okay, Dean. It really is."

Dean couldn't even look up at him. "How do you know that? How can you be sure?"

"Because your brother is a fighter, just like you, and he's not going down that easily. I know it's tough, Dean, but you have to hang on. Sam needs you."

"Dad thinks it's my fault."

"He's wrong, Dean. He wants to talk to you about it."

"So he can blame me again? No. I'm not going to be anywhere near him until after Sam wakes up."

"Dean, give your dad a chance. He's scared and he's worried, just like you. I know you're not going to believe this right now, but he needs you too, even if he can't say it." He rubbed Dean's shoulder. "What do you say we go back upstairs and talk with your Dad?"

"Will you stay?"

"I think this is something between you and your dad. But I'll go sit with Sam while you're talking."

Dean nodded. That would be okay. Holding Jim's hand, the two left the chapel and headed back up to the waiting room.

John was pacing in the waiting room, not sure when Dean and Jim would be back. He knew he shouldn't have blamed Dean. He was just so scared. Sam hadn't been sick like this before. He had never worried about something as small as a fever to bring his son to the ICU.

Dean slowly entered the room, not looking up. He sat down on the couch that he had planted himself on from the moment he entered.

John knelt down on the carpet in front of Dean. "Dean, I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to blame you. I know it's not your fault Sam got sick."

"I didn't know what to do. I tried the best I could. I didn't want to give him the medication, but I was getting scared because his fever was getting so bad." Dean took a deep breath. "I just wanted him not to be sick anymore."

John put his hands on Dean's shoulders. "I know, Dean. It's my fault, for not teaching you how to take care of a fever like this. We'll go over all of it as soon as we get Sam out of here, okay?" Dean nodded and John wrapped Dean up in his arms. "You both are very important to me, Dean. Always, always remember that."

Dean hugged his father back briefly. He pulled away when he saw LeAnn in the doorway. "It's not time to see Sam…why are you here?" he asked, a little panic tingeing his voice.

"We have good news," she started. "Sam's awake and off the ventilator."

Dean ran forward and hugged her hard. LeAnn hugged him back. "Would you like to see him?"

He looked up at his dad who gave a small smile and nodded. "Why don't you go ahead in and see him, Dean? I'll be in once I make a couple of phone calls."

Dean raced ahead of LeAnn to the doors which she opened with her badge. He scrambled into Sam's room. When he got to the doorway he stopped. "Sammy?"

"De-," he started to say before beginning to cough and gasp a little.

LeAnn was right behind him. "Sam, what did I tell you about trying to talk right now? Take a sip of water."

"He can't talk?"

"Not for right now. His throat is too raw from the ventilator."

Dean nodded ad walked into the room. The first thing he did was pull Sam into a tight hug. As hard as Dean tried, a few tears fell out of his eyes. Dean hastily wiped them away, now beginning to get annoyed with all of these tears. He let Sam go, saying, "God, Sammy." He couldn't think of anything else to say. He was just so happy that Sam was awake. "Dad's here. He's out in the waiting room with Pastor Jim. We left him a message where he was staying and he came right home."

Sam made a motion with his hand like he was holding a pen and writing. Dean scrambled to find a piece of paper and a pen. _I heard you talking to me while I wasn't awake,_ Sam wrote. _Does Dad really blame you?_

"No. He was worried and scared and not thinking. He apologized to me. It's all okay." Dean grabbed Sam's hand. "From now on, you even _think_ you're getting sick, you tell me, right away. This doesn't happen again, Sam. _EVER._"

Sam nodded. _I'm sorry, Dean._.

"For?"

_Getting sick. Not telling you. Making you worry._

"It's not your fault you got sick, but dude, you _have_ to tell someone so that we can take care of you. I know Dad's always talking about how we shouldn't be weak, but being sick isn't being weak. Please tell me you understand that."

Sam nodded his head. He made a motion of crossing his heart, then put his pinky up in the air. It took Dean a moment, but then he realized that Sam wanted to pinky swear that he'd understood what Dean had said and that he would follow his directions. Dean hooked his pinky with Sam's, then nodded. "Good." He brushed Sam's bangs off his forehead. "Rest now, kiddo. Want to be able to get you home soon. Want me to tell you a story?"

Sam looked surprised, then nodded.

"What, didn't think I could make up you a story?"

_Haven't done it in a long time,_ Sam wrote.

"Trust me. It'll happen more often now. I want that to be our time to touch base, see how you're doing. Okay?"

Sam smiled and nodded.

Once Sam had been medically cleared to be discharged, John had all of their belongings from the apartment already in the Impala. Sam still needed some rest, and John needed downtime from the hunt and some time with both of his sons.

Before they left, Jacob took John aside and apologized for what happened to Sam with the medication. "I wasn't even thinking about leaving that around the boys."

John nodded. "And I should have reminded you. Next time, we'll both be more careful."

They set out to head to Pastor Jim's, where they were welcome to stay for as long as they needed. They got settled in, Dean and John bringing everything in. Once they had everything situated, they talked Sam into eating a little something, then getting some more rest.

As Sam lay down to sleep, Dean came over to him, book in hand and sat on his bed. "Ready for your story?"

Sam nodded. "_Wizard of Oz_ still?"

"Yeah." Dean paused and used his finger to mark the page they were on. "So how are you doing, Sammy?"

Sam had Dean watching over him again. With that reassurance, he knew everything would be alright.

~ fin ~

Additional author's notes: Jamie, Dan, Dr. Goldberg, Amy and LeAnn are all based on real people. Jamie is my brother and an EMT, Dan is his road partner, Dr. Goldberg, Amy and LeAnn all work in the emergency room I used to work in. I picked them especially because they're all sweethearts, and would totally bend the rules for Dean, if someone special asked. ;) While I stretched a little about the ER rules, at least at my hospital, we were small enough that we could do special things for our patients.


End file.
